


Infirmary

by illyrilex



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hospitalization, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:19:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyrilex/pseuds/illyrilex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post RE5 Oneshot: Chris watches over a hospitalized Jill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infirmary

**Author's Note:**

> There are a lot of post RE5 stories where Jill immediately goes back to the United States with little more than some minor chest pain and nightmares. If somebody went through what she did, they would be admitted to the nearest hospital ASAP and subjected to things such as blood tests, EKGs, maybe a CAT-scan or MRI (or both), etc. etc. My chronic insomnia and Achievement hunting in Desperate Escape had me thinking about these things.
> 
> With that being said… onward!
> 
> And, of course, all characters belong to Capcom!
> 
> Originally published over at fanfiction.net in May of 2011.

Chris Redfield awoke with a small start, bleary-eyed and uncomfortable as he sat up. Looking around the dimly lit hospital room, he was somewhat amazed at how he was able to fall asleep in the first place; the chair he occupied was much too small for his bulky frame, and nurses were constantly in and out of the room to check on the sleeping woman occupying the gurney a little less than two feet away.

 _Jill Valentine_.

Seeing his old partner alive and somewhat well after being declared dead nearly three years prior had been more than a bit of a shock to Chris, who had been greatly affected by her loss. Jill had sacrificed herself to save him from certain death, and not a day went by where he didn't think about her, or the crushing guilt he carried over her supposed passing. Their reunion hadn't done much to assuage that guilt; sure, Chris was glad that his friend – no, best friend, really – was alive, but seeing her under the influence of that psychopath, Wesker, all jacked up on an experimental drug called P30, was almost too much to bear. (Only when he and his newly assigned partner, Sheva, were forced to fight a completely strung-out Jill and literally tear a horrific device off of her chest – wires and blood flying everywhere in the process – had it become "too much.")

 _Damn it, it's my fault all of this happened to her in the first place_ , Chris told himself.

Jill seemed to be sleeping soundly despite being hooked up to several machines, wires snaking their way over and under her hospital gown and sheets. The garish holes in her chest left behind where the P30 auto-dispenser had been attached were, not surprisingly, the  _least_  of the doctors' concerns: Dehydration, malnutrition, exhaustion, and withdrawal symptoms from that wretched drug – which, so far, had been muscle tremors and blackouts – were far more pressing than a few easily sutured wounds. The mental repercussions were a massive concern as well: the only reason Jill was able to rest so easily at the moment wasn't because of a lack of sleep or a lack of a decent meal catching up with her; a strong sedative had been slipped into her I.V. during what was probably one of the most violent night-terrors anybody working in the BSAA's infirmary had ever seen.

Chris let out a heavy sigh and instinctively took Jill's hand in his heavily bandaged one: Punching boulders, no matter how desperate the situation, was not highly recommended. Despite the soreness in his knuckles, Chris closed his fingers around Jill's as best as he could.  _Once she finds out about this_ , he smiled in spite of himself, s _he's going to give me shit about it for the rest of my life._

That was one of the great things about Jill: While Chris was often serious, impulsive, and hot-tempered, Jill balanced out their partnership with a level head and dry wit.  _"Somebody has to keep the 'Redfield Rage' in check,"_  she once told him as if it was the most natural thing in the entire world. Chris found himself wondering just how much this ordeal would affect her; obviously, she was never going to be the same after this, but to what extent? He had a feeling that those lazy smiles and droll comments were going to be very few and far between during her recovery period. The very thought of an "Emo" (is that what the kids called it these days?) Jill was rather disheartening.

"Sandwich."

Chris jumped a little as he looked into the suddenly wide eyes of his unexpectedly vocal partner: Steel-blue orbs that were, at that moment, devoid of all thoughts and all feelings. The muscles in Jill's fingers jerked momentarily before she closed her eyes and relaxed into her pillows once more.

Anybody else probably would have been alarmed by this random display of somnambulism: God knows the first time Chris witnessed one of these episodes it scared the living piss out of him. Over the years, he had become accustomed to these sporadic nocturnal disclosures, bizarre as they sometimes were: In the times where they would occasionally have to bunk together for various reasons, Chris almost began to welcome these little slices of eccentricity.

Seeing this, hearing this now, somehow managed to give Chris an overwhelming sense of relief. Sure, the road to recovery was going to be long and grueling, but if Jill, who had just been rescued from an extremely traumatic experience not even a full two days ago, was still able to murmur incoherently about random food items as she slept, then there was no question in Chris's mind that she was going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> * This was my first fic. I've been hella nervous about pushing it live; I hope it wasn't too painful for anyone! (If it was, you'd let me know, right? Right?)
> 
> * Math is hard: the exact duration of Jill's time in captivity (August 2006 to March 2009) was two years, seven months.
> 
> * I am surrounded by people who talk in their sleep; the things they say are so random and hard to understand that I can't even…However! Every now and then, something very clear bubbles to the surface - hence, the perfect opportunity for an obligatory sandwich reference.
> 
> * Somnambulism (AKA sleepwalking) can be caused by factors such as fever, excessive tiredness, or sleep deprivation; people that experience this awake in a state of what's called low-consciousness and usually perform simple acts (sitting up in bed, going to the bathroom, cleaning, or in some cases, eating). I thought that it was a quirk that would make perfect sense given Jill's past experiences throughout the RE series.
> 
> * Punching boulders, while awesome for all the wrong reasons, would most definitely result in a broken hand.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and/or reviewing! Cheers~!


End file.
